


Frogs and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

by chubby_thunder



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Ageplay, Clothed Sex, D/s relationship, Daddy Kink, Dd/lb, Dom!John, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Spanking, Wet & Messy, sub!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8678407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubby_thunder/pseuds/chubby_thunder
Summary: Cranky Sherlock is looking for trouble. John is more than happy to oblige.  (Established DD/lb relationship involved). Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was my creation for 2014's Johnlock Valentine's Day Challenge. It was posted on tumblr but then lost when blog names changed. The prompts for the fic were: "Fluff and Smut" and "Sherlock has a Daddy kink for top/dom John".

“Sherlock! For the last time, put your mould cultures away!”

“Tedious.”

John just huffed. Sherlock’s response was nothing short of how he viewed daily activities. It wasn’t that he asked much of the detective; Cooking two meals a week, taking the trash out at least once weekly, and – most importantly – cleaning up after his ill-fated experiments.

“Really, Sherlock? Really? Because I’m fairly certain that your next experiment may come across some sort of unfortunate end if you can’t –“

“Don’t touch my cultures!”

Sherlock was an absolute brat with his face mushed into the pout of an insolent child.  John knew that face, he knew that tone.  Sherlock couldn’t be reasoned with in this state.  He sat at the table, arms crossed, curly dark head down staring at the floor.

John put the bag of groceries down on he counter, letting his tongue slide over his bottom lip as he approached Sherlock.  The taller man was all slumped in his chair, legs splayed out under the table.  His angst was palpable.  John took a couple steps forward.

“Sherlock.”

No response.

Fingers twitching with a sigh John reached out instinctively grabbing Sherlock’s strong jaw pulling his face up to look at him. The captain’s stormy grey eyes were darker than usual.

“Sherlock…”

“Whaaaat?” he whined in response.

It took John less than a second to see the playful begging in Sherlock’s light eyes.  It blew his mind to even consider that possibility that every prior fight of this nature had been Sherlock crying out silently for some order and direction.  It hadn’t taken long to learn his preferences in this way.

“Chair. Now.”

Getting up with a huff Sherlock complied without question and slunk over to the overstuffed chair. John watched as he stood beside it, thumbs hooking a little too eagerly into the waistband of his pajama pants pulling them down just enough to show his pale perfect backside.

John moved past him as he removed his jacket, making a bit of a show of unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up sleeves. Sherlock shifted from one foot to the other as anticipation made the thin material of his pants begin to tent up uncomfortably.   John couldn’t help but notice how he wiggled like an antsy child.

“Come,” John simply commanded once he was seated in his favorite chair.

The arm of the chair was deceptively hard against the front of Sherlock’s thighs as he leaned over John’s lap taking hold of the other armrest to steady himself.  Sherlock’s throat already felt dry.

“Up.”

Sherlock lifted his feet off the floor at this one-word directive, causing his chest and legs to balance on the armrests as his long torso began to sink into John’s lap causing his fair ass to tip upward.

Pleased with his compliance, John rewarded him with soft fingers up the back of his thighs as he scolded him.

“You’re so very bad, Sherlock. Sometimes I just don’t know what to do with you.”

Nothing could be further from the truth, in fact. John knew too well what Sherlock needed and wanted when he acted as such, but he continued on.

“Now… Sherlock, tell me what you did to get you punished.”

Sherlock’s head was perked up excitedly as he glanced over at John’s face waiting for a reaction.  His obnoxious words were tinged with such taunting and anticipation. 

“I didn’t follow your ridiculously idiotic rules or do your inane chores.”

A small nod of his head was all Sherlock could manage before a flat hand striking the area where his ass met his thighs made his back arch.  There was that moment of delicious shock before the sting started almost immediately thereafter.  The relief washed over him as the fire spread over his skin.  With every stroke it worsened to the point that Sherlock’s whimper was audible even under John’s scoldings.

“You need to learn respect.  You need to learn how to behave. You’re aggravating on your best day, you little brat.”

Without acknowledgement of his own wrongdoings Sherlock continued to receive the consequences.  John focused his brisk hard strokes with the flat of his hand right on the delicate spots that would ache enticing every time Sherlock sat down for the next few days.  Knowledge of anatomy is a very helpful tool. 

“I hate you! I hate you and your rules!”

Sherlock’s exclamation was more of a sad impotent utterance.  His words were laden with sniffles and groans.  The heady combination of John’s stern words and the onslaught of pain to the sensitive juncture of his thighs caused his twitching cock to leak much like his eyes at the moment.  He let out a final cry of discomfort accepting that he was wrong and quickly changed his tune.

“I was rude.  I was rude and I didn’t listen.”

John paused taking a moment to admire the reddened skin and the welts forming on that round curve of flesh.  He could feel the movement of Sherlock’s breath as his body fell more and more against the tops of John’s thighs.  Sherlock was panting desperately and whimpering and whining.  Just saying the words was enough.

“Good. Good boy.  You know I always like you to be aware of why you’re being punished.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Resting his hand on Sherlock’s skin made the raw flesh continue to throb.   Sherlock wriggled around in John’s lap trying to rub himself against him.  He was all impulse and need despite his currently obedient state.  John liked Sherlock best like this- a hyperactive little boy who needed guidance and care.  He appreciated Sherlock’s preference for this kind of play.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

The words sounded amazingly lurid from a grown man even while taking on the affect of a tearful, repentant, well-spanked boy.

“Come here, sweetie.”

A light and assured tone came to John’s voice then, his demeanor changing entirely.  He pulled Sherlock toward him so he could curl up his long limbs in John’s lap.  Sherlock blinked, his clear blue-green eyes shining still as he looked up at John with a mixture of gratitude and lingering shock.  Reaching down to ruffle his hair, John also wiped away a tear from his cheek.

“Daddy… I feel funny.”

John’s sly smile returned.  Sherlock’s normally forthright demeanor and lack of nuance somehow melted away when in this headspace.  John’s fingers flitted over Sherlock’s hip before brushing against the warm length through the worn cotton of his pajamas.  Sherlock began to whine and shift again.

“Do you want me to help or not, Sherlock?”

The boy nodded in reply, his lips pressed together in frustration.  John kept that layer of fabric between his hand and Sherlock’s cock.  He had learned from experience that Sherlock was hypersensitive- his tactile sensibilities (along with other senses as well) were almost superhuman. 

Sherlock tensed and twitched as John wound his fingers around and over his cock.  The younger man even pushed his fingers into his own mouth to stifle his moans, embarrassed to be coming so undone so quickly here in John’s lap.  Just a little more pressure and he’d be done for.  John could tell from the sounds he was making.

“I feel… odd.  Daddy, why does it feel so weird?”

“Just relax, Sherlock.  Close your eyes and relax.”

“Okay, but why do-“

Stroking his entire length from base to tip with a firm grip coaxed a string of incoherent cries from Sherlock’s throat.  His breath caught and all was silent for a moment as the fabric stretched taut over the head of his cock soaked through leaving quite a mess all over the inside of his pants.  The only sound John made was a tiny satisfied hum as Sherlock shivered with aftershocks holding tightly onto John’s arm.  He found Sherlock’s reactions to pleasure endlessly amusing and far more interesting than anyone else he had played with in the past.

It took a few minutes for Sherlock’s brain to unscramble.  Once he was sure his muscles could withstand movement despite being the consistency of jelly he sat up a little more to nuzzle into the crook of John’s neck.

“Feeling better now?”

Sherlock responded affirmatively with a small sound and an exuberant nod.  It took a lot to get him there but in this state Sherlock always craved closeness- a welcome change from how standoffish he could be, even to the one person he loved most in all the world.

“Do I get to do something for Daddy?”

Sherlock moved himself to the floor on his knees before John.  He wore a bright smile as he gazed up at the Captain. As Sherlock sat back, his sore bruised bottom met his heels which caused him to jump and groan in discomfort.  John couldn’t hide his amusement as he watched him scuttle to pull his pajamas back up over his angry flesh.

John found himself sometimes preferring this side of Sherlock and secretly hoping he’d get to see it more often and in more scenarios.  He reached forward patting his head.  Sherlock beamed.  John’s praise meant the world to him always, just now in times like these he could really show it.  Sherlock lunged forward happily to press his face against John’s thigh, laying in his lap with arms coiling around his waist.

“Making a valiant effort at being a good boy, I see.”

John’s teasing tone made Sherlock laugh lightly. He pushed himself between John’s knees and moved a hand over to tug on John’s belt.

“Oh come now, I don’t think you were bad enough to deserve that.”

The sarcastic glare on Sherlock’s face was enough to appease John for a lifetime.  He was able to undo the belt and the button on his jeans before Sherlock’s long fingers dove in to work on the zip.  Sherlock liked parts of things, the fine details.   He gleefully yanked down John’s trousers just enough as John thought out loud.

“I suppose you do deserve a treat for taking your punishment like a good boy.”

A shiver ran up John’s spine as Sherlock’s curious hands reached into his pants to pull him free.  All that bolstering of his confidence with John’s kind words made Sherlock all the more eager to please.  He lingered in his lap for a moment just enjoying all the scents that made up the man who loved and protected him.  John found himself letting out a low groan, as he got harder and harder in Sherlock’s hand.

“May I, really?”

“Yes, you may.”

John was proud.  Asking permission was never Sherlock’s strong suit.  He put his head back enjoying the wet warmth of the younger man’s mouth, his divine lips working over his length with a little shy hesitation but all the eagerness of a teenager.  John’s fingers threaded through Sherlock’s bouncy curls urging him on.  Sherlock graciously used his tongue leaving all the mess a child might leave behind while at play but all over John’s cock and lap.  This was far from the first time that they’d played this game, but all the tastes and sounds and smells still managed to overwhelm Sherlock.  He let out a whimper around John’s girth when John pressed his hips up a little too aggressively.

“Oh.  Sorry, love.”

Genuine embarrassment colored John’s cheeks for a moment before it was replaced again with the flush of arousal.  He lightened his touch and let Sherlock have a modicum more of control.  He allowed his hand to move down to the back of Sherlock’s neck as he got closer, breath and words coming in shorter and shorter bursts.

“What a… good boy!”

Sherlock was ready for him as he could tell the exact amount of tension in John’s thighs before he came.  Keen observation was a powerful skill.  With determination and a quick tongue, Sherlock pushed John over the edge.  With his eyes screwed tight John choked out a few cries as he finally released into Sherlock’s waiting mouth.  John’s hand was still notably on the back of the little one’s neck making sure he mostly stayed put until he was done with him.

But Sherlock didn’t struggle.  On the contrary he was happy to stay and take everything John had to give.  That was his treat, his reward for being good and accepting his punishment.  He’d know better next time… Or not.  His cheeky smile clarified that right away with lips stained with cum and saliva dripping down his chin.

“How’d I do, Daddy!?”

“That was brilliant.”

John meant it.  He was still recovering but Sherlock appeared to be full of energy and ready for another round.  His glowing grin and tight splotchy pajama bottoms were proof.  Quite satiated for the moment, John leaned forward to press a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead. 

“I did a good job!”

“Yes, you did.  Now go start the bath for us.  You’re an absolute mess.”

The chair protested as John got up, holding onto his trousers to keep them at his hips as he watched Sherlock bound toward the bathroom to draw a bath no doubt full of soapy bubbles.  He needed this.  They both needed this.  Sherlock felt safe like this.  Safe and loved.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I can take requests and always appreciate comments/critique. <3


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